


Gunpowder, Treason and Plot

by Kerkerian_StopYulin



Category: Sherlock (TV)
Genre: Drama, Episode: s03e01 The Empty Hearse, Gen, Guy Fawkes Night, Hurt John Watson, Missing Scene
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-07-15
Updated: 2014-07-15
Packaged: 2018-02-09 00:19:59
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,323
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1961751
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Kerkerian_StopYulin/pseuds/Kerkerian_StopYulin
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>The second time Sherlock and Mary meet is on Guy Fawkes Night. They have got one mutual concern: John. One-shot (and sort-of missing scene), set after the fire and before all further events unfolded during season three. Minor spoilers for TEH.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Gunpowder, Treason and Plot

**Author's Note:**

> Disclaimer: I don't own Sherlock.

 

 

Fortunately, one of the goldfish has called an ambulance (not for the first time but particularly on this occasion, Sherlock inwardly agrees with his brother about other people's astounding slowness). John is too dazed to protest, as he probably would have otherwise. He closes his eyes again while they wait, looking impossibly young and vulnerable to Sherlock. Maybe that notion is emphasized by the fact that he has shaved off the caterp- the moustache. Or maybe Sherlock is being sentimental.

The crowd's attention has shifted from the bonfire to the little group; once the ambulance has arrived, Mary and Sherlock try to at least block John from the general view as he is being lifted onto the stretcher by the paramedics. After a moment of confusion, they agree to let Mary ride in the ambulance with John while Sherlock is going to follow on the motorbike.

* * *

The ride to the hospital seems endless, and Sherlock suddenly feels the cold. He didn't register anything before, has only had John on his mind, John combined with surprisingly strong fear. He didn't like it at all, and yet it has been overwhelming. Death by fire is by far the most unpleasant way to die Sherlock can imagine, and he still isn't certain how he was able to function at all, to remember the shortcuts they'd been taking in order to get to St. James the Less.

 

While John is being seen to in the A&E, Mary and Sherlock wait in a crowded room with a surprising number of people. Most of them are quiet, subdued. A small boy sleeps on his grandmother's lap, one man unsuccesfully tries to subdue his rather wet-sounding cough every few minutes.

There's a commotion when a few mostly drunk young men enter, one of them clutching his bloody arm but still pretending not to be bothered.

Knife wound, Sherlock deduces and immediately loses interest.

Neither he nor Mary did sit down, both of them are too agitated. She is remarkably pale, and Sherlock hasn't failed to notice how she is leaning against the wall for support, clutching the hem of her coat as though needing something to hold on to.

"Why don't you sit down for a moment?" he says in an undertone, and Mary's expression is that of someone being caught.

Sherlock wonders about that, since John isn't at all in mortal danger anymore; the worst he's dealing with probably is the unknown drug someone obviously administered, along with some minor smoke inhalation. There has to be another reason for Mary's disconcertment. Emotions, Sherlock realizes. She's very likely wondering how someone can do something like that to another human being, putting them into a fire like that.

Inwardly, Sherlock groans; emotions are making him uneasy, and for a good reason, too; the way John rejected his repeated attempts to apologize after all just proved that he, Sherlock, is rubbish at them. The fact that he completely miscalculated the whole situation is still smarting a little. Yet he needs Mary if he wants to get back into John's good graces, and therefore, he needs to react accordingly.

"I'll get you some water," he offers, "go and sit down, please. You look as though you'll keel over any second now."

With a grateful smile, Mary does as he says.

Relieved, Sherlock wanders off to find either a vending machine or someone who can help him.

* * *

There's a tremor in Mary's hands, and no matter how tightly she grips her coat or her bag, it won't stop. It's not because of John, even though that knowledge makes her feel slightly guilty. It's because of who she fears might be behind the abduction: the man who sent her the skip code. She hasn't heard of him for quite a while, and the notion that he might be back now, obviously having caught on with the most recent developments in her life, is making her nauseous.

John is going to be fine, though he probably wouldn't be if it hadn't been for Sherlock. An unpleasant rush of adrenaline makes her knees feel like jelly; in her car, she would have been too slow, and she didn't even know where to find the church. She shudders: she would have been too late. If it has been _him_ , it undoubtedly is his intention to show her her place, to let her know she can't win.

What a horrible thing to do, burn someone alive. What a clever move to involve the detective like that, especially now that he isn't officially alive again yet. But of course she'd run to Sherlock, _he_ must have anticipated that. No one is going to suspect that this is about her, not about the famous crime-solving duo. What a clever, clever mind the man's got. How he must have watched her all the time. She shudders once more.

* * *

Sherlock comes back a few minutes later, bringing her a bottle of mineral water and a packet of crisps: "Bit of sustenance," he says, and there's a brief smile in his eyes despite his otherwise serious expression.

Mary is certain that he's been pondering who'd do something like this. He must be frustrated, too, because he doesn't have any way of knowing, not yet. And of course, he thinks that this is about him. If she's careful, that won't change. One thing has become clear tonight, though: if she stays with John Watson, she'll probably put him and, by extension, Sherlock, into danger. She feels like weeping at the notion that she might lose John; she knows that she can't ever let go of him again. She'll have to wait and see, be watchful: if need be, she'll end the man who seems intent to put her through misery. She won't let John come to any harm, not after tonight. She is aware that she won't be able to protect him around the clock, but it seems that in Sherlock, she's got an ally in that regard. If she wants to keep John safe, she'll need Sherlock close by in case that it comes to the worst; she needs to become his friend.

With a small sigh, she takes the water and the crisps and puts them on her lap, then reaches for Sherlock's hand: "Thank you," she says, a slight tremor in her voice. "If it hadn't been for you..." she breaks off.

Sherlock briefly squeezes her hand, though he seems a little impatient to let go again. He isn't certain about her, not yet. Well. She'll get him there.

* * *

Sherlock appreciates the way Mary is visibly pulling herself together despite being so obviously upset. It probably won't be the last time that she's waiting in the A&E, at least if John does eventually decide to forgive him. Sherlock isn't so sure about that anymore, especially not after this. The doctor has made it clear that he does not want partake in this kind of life any longer, after all. Sherlock hopes that he'll talk him round, of course, which albeit depends entirely on John's forgiveness.

 

When they are finally allowed to see him, John is still breathing into an oxygen mask to relieve the effect of the smoke inhalation, and he's decidedly too pale. The wound on his temple has been taken care of, however, giving him a slightly less dramatic look than before.

Mary bends forward and kisses him, and John only seems to have eyes for her, doesn't acknowledge the detective's presence. Sherlock is surprised by how much it stings, how much he wants to be in Mary's place right now. As it is, there's no room for him; the firm knowledge that it's his own fault doesn't make it easier. Silently, he backs away until he can disappear behind the partially drawn curtain of the bay John's in.

Without slowing down, he turns up the collar of his coat and walks out into the night.

* * *

**The End**

 

**Author's Note:**

> Thank you for reading, please leave some feedback.


End file.
